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She nodded her head as if I had forced her to admit it when I had not.

"I'm thirsting," she said softly. She said it with an elegance. And then in wonder. "I'm thirsting for blood. I must go with you. "

"Very well then," I answered. "My lovely sweet companion. Strength will come to you. Strength will take up its abode in your heart. Don't fear. I have so much to teach, and as these nights pass, when you and I are comforted, I'll tell you of the others I've known, of their strength and of their beauty. "

She nodded again, her eyes widening.

"Do you love me the most," she asked, "that is all I want to know for now and you may lie to me. " She smiled, even as the tears stained her cheeks.

"Of course I do,'' I said. "I love you more than anyone. You're here, are you not? And finding me crushed, you gave your strength to save me. "

It was a cold answer, lacking in flattery or kindness, yet it seemed quite enough for her, and it struck me how very different she was from those I had loved before, from Pandora in her wisdom, or Amadeo in his cunning. She seemed endowed with sweetness and intellect in equal measure.

I brought her up the steps with me. We left the small candle behind as if it would be a beacon for our return.

Before I opened the door I listened carefully for the sound of any of Santino's brood. I heard nothing.

We made our way silently through the narrowest canals of the most dangerous portions of the city. And there we found our victims again,

Struggling little, drinking much. Into the dirty water we released them afterwards.

Long after she was fragrant and warm from her many kills, a sharp observer of the dark and shining walls, I was still parched and burning. Oh, how dreadful was the pain. How soothing the blood as it flooded my arms and legs.

Near dawn we returned. We had encountered no danger. I was much healed but my limbs were still like sticks, and when I reached beneath my mask, I felt a face which seemed irreparably scarred.

How long would this take? I could not tell Bianca. I could not tell myself.

I knew that in Venice we could not reckon upon too many such nights. We would become known. Thieves and killers would begin to watch for us¡ªthe white-faced beauty, the man with the black leather mask-

I had to test the Cloud Gift. Could I carry Bianca with me towards the shrine? Could I make the full journey in one night or would I blunder and leave us scrambling desperately before dawn for some hiding place?

She went to her sleep quietly, with no fear of the coffin. It seemed she would show me her strength to comfort me, and though she could not kiss my face, she put a kiss on her slender fingers and gave it to me with her breath.

I had an hour then until the sunrise, and slipping out of the golden room, I went up and out over the rooftop and lifted my arms. Within moments I was high above the city, moving effortlessly, as though the Cloud Gift had never been harmed in me, and then I was beyond Venice, far beyond it, looking back at it with its many golden lights, and at the satin glimmer of the sea.

My return was swift and accurate, and I came down silently to the golden room with ample time to go to my rest.

The wind had hurt my burnt skin, but it was no matter. I was overjoyed with this discovery, that I could take to the air as well as I had ever done. I knew now that I could soon attempt the journey to Those Who Must Be Kept.

On the next night, my beauty did not wake screaming as she had before.

She was far more clever and ready for the hunt and full of questions.

As we made our way through the canals, I told her the old story of the Druid grove and how I'd been taken there. And how the magic had been given me in the oak. I told her of Mael and how I despised him still and how he had come once to visit me in Venice, and how very strange it had all seemed.

"But I saw this one," she said in a hushed voice, her whisper nevertheless echoing up the walls. "I remember the night that he came to you here. It was the night that I came back from Florence. "

I could not think clearly of these things. And it was soothing to me to hear her talk of them.

"I had brought you a painting by Botticelli," she said. "It was small and very pretty and you later thanked me for it. This tall blond one was waiting upon you when I came, and he was ragged and dirty. "

These things came clear to me as she spoke. The memories enlivened me.

And then came the hunt, the gush of blood, the death, the body dropped into the canal, and once more the pain rising sharp above the sweetness of the cure, and I fell back into the gondola, weak from the pleasure of it.

"Once more, I have to do it," I told her. She was satisfied, but on we went. And out of another house I drew yet another victim into my arms, breaking his neck in my clumsiness. I took another victim and another, and finally it was only exhaustion which stopped me, for the hurt in me would have no end of blood.

At last when the gondola was tethered, I took her in my arms and wrapping her close to my chest as I had so often done with Amadeo, I rose above the city with her, and flew out and high until I could not even see Venice at all.